Little Known Things
by Jekrox
Summary: The Glee club discovers some little known things about a few well known people. Hevans. Canon gets a few re-writes.
1. The Lesson Plan

**A/N: The POV's are a bit shifty in this one, because I write Kurt differently to the way I write Sam. I like to think it works, though :)**

**Also, the songs are probably going to be a little obscure, but I'll credit them at the end of the chapter. They're all good - I promise :P**

"Who here has ever bought an album?"

My eyes rolled without even trying – they knew. Mr. Schue had some screwed up lesson he was trying to teach us. He'd been doing the same thing since we started the club, and nothing was going to change. He'd done it whilst I was gone, and he'd started doing it again

"Does stealing it count?" I vaguely heard Puckerman reply, and after a short pause, Mr. Schue just kept on going.

"I think that we all know that artists don't always release every song as a single. Not all of the music that they sing gets heard."

I had to agree with him there. He did have a point – there were so many songs that people hadn't listened to by some of my favorite artists just because they weren't singles, or played on the radio.

"That's why, this week, your assignment is to find a song that you feel has been hidden away." Hadn't they just done this with their Night of Neglect, like, two weeks ago? "You know what they say – little known facts about well known people."

Where the hell had that bit come from?

I shook my head.

"Kurt? Did you have a problem with this week's assignment?"

"No, Mr. Schue," I deflected. "I think it's a fantastic idea."

Mr. Schue smiled broadly at me. _Sucker_. This one would be easy.

* * *

><p>When Mr. Schue announced his assignment for the week, I expected it to be something alien and random. After all, he had set a precedent. Yeah, that's right. I know what precedent means. I'm not just some stupid jock.<p>

Every week he managed to find some lesson that made absolutely no sense to teach us through music. Not that I'm complaining. I mean, Mr. Schue's a great teacher. He knows us all, and he's really there for us, no matter what. However, he does tend to create a lesson plan that's completely insane just because he feels like it. And then make set-lists and choreography for competitions the week before.

This week, though, I think I kind of… get the assignment. I understand what Mr. Schue's trying to say.

There are parts of people that others don't find because they don't try hard enough. That was definitely something I could relate to. After all, there was a part of me that nobody saw.

A part of me that I hide away because it's too hard to deal with.

And now I just sit here, staring at the most bored person in the room, because he manages to make _boredom_ look captivating. And make me jealous and depressed at the same time.

I'm a bit worried about Kurt, though. I mean, he did only come back to school last week, but since walking in with a hat, he hasn't worn anything really… well… Kurt-like since then. That bothers me a lot.

I lo-like the way that Kurt is. I like how open he is about himself to himself. He doesn't deny who he is, because that would be easy. He embraces the fact that he just needs to be out there and fabulous because _that's who he is_. Now, though, he's wearing greys and blacks and it just looks like he's stopped trying.

I, personally, blame Blaine. Ewww. Blaine. I don't like the guy.

And don't jump to the conclusion that it's because I sort of have a thing for his boyfriend. It's because I genuinely find him annoying.

Maybe the boyfriend thing helps a little too.

And the fact that he's so much more… charismatic than me. He can just open his mouth and say something simple like 'Courage' (yes, I know that's what he tells Kurt. Kurt went to the trouble of sticking it up on his locker door, for goodness' sakes. It had to have been something that came out of _Saint Blaine's_ mouth) and everyone swoons for him and it really makes me want to hit him in the face.

However, I don't really think that would earn me brownie points with Kurt. Him being Blaine's boyfriend and all.

All the girls love him because he's so _nice_ to Kurt. Is being a boyfriend about being nice? I bet the girls would love me more if I were with Kurt.

Not that I care very much about what the girls think, however. There's only one person in the world whose opinion matters to me, and he has no idea.

So I just sit here and stare and _wait_ _for the idiot to realize that Kurt is too good for him and go and get a freakin' personality_ and just think. Think about ways to tell Kurt that I want him so bad it kind of hurts my heart a little. It's not very healthy. Maybe Kurt's like some secret drug or something. And my body's had some, and now I can't get enough. Maybe it's like that for everyone, but I would want to recover if I was on drugs, right? I would know it was bad…?

I have no idea. I've never done drugs, so no experience there.

But what if I really was –

There are fingers snapping in front of my face.

I shake my head quickly. "Wh-whuh? What?"

I look at the owner of the fingers, but I already know who it is. I mean, it's hard not to know when you stare at those _hands_ whenever they're around. And that _face_ and those damn _eyes_ and OH GOD HE'S TALKING.

"… so maybe you should think about it? Sam, are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah," I reply. Kurt gives me that look where he just sees right into my brain (though thankfully, not very far) and raises an eyebrow. Just the one. That's a neat trick. "Okay, so maybe I wasn't. Sorry."

"What I said was, do you think you might want to leave the choir room any time soon? Glee's over, you know." I look around, affirming what he said (although I don't really need to. Kurt is _always_ right, even when he's _so_ wrong).

"Lost in my own world. Sorry." I stand up. "So, you got any ideas for the assignment?"

Kurt just shrugs as we walks towards the door. I can tell he's uncomfortable – I don't think we're really the best of friends. But I still figure we can hold a conversation.

"I'll probably use something from the Fame." He reads my expression easily. "Lady Gaga's first studio album." I nod. "See you around, Sam." Kurt smiles and walks off in the opposite direction.

I just sigh. Because I know I'll never be able to tell him how I feel. I'm just not that open about _anything_ since what happened at my last school.

I shiver, and walk down the hall to my own locker.

Some things are best just left unthought-of. Unremembered. Lost.

As I walk to my car, and begin to drive home, I begin to formulate a plan.

Because if I don't get Kurt soon, I think I might explode.

He makes me so happy, that I could die. If that's even a thing. And if it wasn't, I could make it a thing, right? This _is_ Kurt, we're talking about.

And there has to be a song that's really hidden for me to say that, doesn't there?


	2. The Brother Talk

I'm not the most romantic person on the planet. Santana made sure I knew that – her repeated assurances that I have 'no game' were always a bit hard for my self-esteem. I'm not very bold when it comes to romance, and I don't really know how to show anyone a good time.

I had no luck last night finding any songs that weren't released as singles. I don't really buy albums, because why waste money buying the whole CD when you only want one song? This is getting me stumped, so I'm doing something bold.

"Hey, Kurt," I say, as he unpacks his things for his next class from his locker. I lean up against the locker next to his the way I used to lean near Quinn's, and I smile broadly.

Kurt quakes an eyebrow before returning the smile, and replying with a simple "Hey, Sam."

"Umm, I was wondering… if maybe, you wouldn't mind… helping me with this week's assignment?"

That was easier than I'd expected.

"How so?" Kurt replies, and shuts his locker. We start walking towards wherever his next class is (with my luck, probably on the opposite end of the school to where I need to be, but whatever).

"I don't really have albums. I figure you're the type that goes for the whole experience?"

"You figure correctly," he replies. "Are you free tonight?"

Wait.

Hold the phone.

Kurt Hummel. The boy I've been ogling for the last, like, forever, is asking if I want to come to his house?

Yes. I believe he is.

…

OMG.

Umm… breathe… breathe…. "Sure. Yeah. Sure. I mean, if I'm not imposing, or…"

Kurt swats at the air in front of me. "Of course you're not. I'd be happy to help you."

I beam. "Great! What time do you want me?"

"How about you just follow me after school – Blaine's picking me up at seven, so we'll have some time."

He seems to notice my face fall.

"Sorry, if that's… umm… so is that okay?"

"Sure. Sounds great. It's a date." His eyes widen. "I mean, like, it's planned. A planned meeting. That's what a date is, right? A planned meeting between two people. There doesn't have to be a romantic context. We're not… romantically meeting. Not romantic at all."

Kurt nods his head quickly, and I know that he totally gets it. It isn't stopping him from blushing, though. "I'd better go," he replies. "See you later?"

I nod, and he walks into class.

I walk to the other side of the school.

* * *

><p>I didn't have a clue what was going on in Sam's head. A date? Why would he have wanted to go on a date with me? It wasn't a date though. He'd made that very clear.<p>

I sighed as I eased into my seat for French. As usual, I didn't pay attention, because duh, French is easy.

Why did all of the guys hate Blaine?

I remembered the first time they all met him at Rachel's party.

_Mike had smiled and shook Blaine's hand. Then, after he kissed Rachel, sent him glares for the rest of the night. I had the feeling that had something to do with Tina._

_Artie claimed that he rolled over Blaine's feet by accident for the entire evening, even though something in his eyes told me that it totally wasn't true._

_Puckerman had whispered in my ear, asking if we were dating, to which I replied with a no, and he replied with a prompt "Good, because you can totally do better."_

_Finn had seemed disappointed that, because Blaine wasn't my boyfriend, he couldn't threaten him with castration like a normal brother. Instead, he just politely declined to acknowledge Blaine's existence for most of the evening._

_And Sam, well, Sam had just nodded, gulped, and walked over to the drinks stand. And done some serious face sucking with Santana. That spoke volumes._

None of the guys liked Blaine. Not one of them. And I wanted them to like him so much – he was my boyfriend. The girls all gushed over Blaine and loved him and giggled whenever he spoke. Sort of like I did.

The boys, however, seemed determined not to like him at all. Every time he'd brought up sports, they'd just laughed him off. When he offered to hang out, they 'had other plans'. We had our places, in glee club. I was one of the girls – and my boyfriend wasn't. He was meant to hang around guys, not girls. Sure, he could hold his own (barely) in a conversation about fashion, but he was much more comfortable with sports and, well, guy stuff.

He didn't fit in with them at all, and it was their fault.

After all, Blaine couldn't have done anything. Blaine could never offend anyone. Blaine was perfect.

Blaine couldn't have been the source of the problem. There was something else going on here, something I couldn't put my finger on.

And I was going to figure it out.

* * *

><p>I'm determined not to make myself look like an idiot in front of Kurt. Well, any more of an idiot than I already do.<p>

I meet him at his locker at the end of the day, and we chat all the way to our cars.

I follow him home, like we organized, and pull into his driveway. He opens the door, and we walk into the lounge room. Kurt disappears into the kitchen for a second, and I notice that Finn is sitting on the couch. I give him a short glare before sitting on the other couch.

"I think we need to talk, Sam." He says simply, and I know what he's talking about.

"Not really. I get it. Quinn had feelings for you, and -," and Finn puts a hand up, as if to say, 'stop talking'. I do.

"Not about Quinn," he says shortly.

I give him a confused look, because I am, as the look would suggest, very much confused.

"We need to talk about Kurt."

AWWWW DAMN.

"W-W-What… what about um… um Kurt?" I barely manage to stutter the whole sentence out. Way to play it cool.

"I think you know," he says, crossing his arms.

"Ummm, no… umm no I don't." I'm just a master of denial, and Finn's a master interrogator. He's forcing it out of me.

I'm squirming. I'm actually squirming.

"Sam, it's okay. I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Tell anyone what?" Score one for Sam. Full thought produced, no fumbling. Then again, at last count it sits at about 1-2. So that's a bit of a bummer.

"Stop trying to pretend that you don't want to have your fun in his pants." I blush so hard, it shouldn't be legal. It shouldn't be possible. "Or, whatever it is that… that two guys would do… or something. I don't know. All I'm saying is, that you stare at him like he's the most important thing in the world."

I look at him in awe for a moment. Because Finn Hudson actually gets it.

I'm about to nod, when Kurt saunters into the room.

"We should get to my room," Kurt tells me, and I ignore the look that Finn gives me.

I've neither confirmed nor denied anything. Right?

Right.


	3. The Tick of Approval

**A/N: This story now has a definite ending (which I've never really had before, because I'm insane), so I can pretty much definitely tell you that there are to be 10 chapters in it. ****And 15 musical numbers. Gotta love that creativity.**

**Also, to those of you who are following my Dr. Who/Glee crossover fic, "Dream Role", sorry that that's taken me so much time to update. It will probably be finished soon. Probably XP**

I wasn't really sure where Sam and I stood. We hadn't spoke very much since the Duets competition, and even when he'd stood up for me against Karofsky, the only words I'd even vaguely uttered in his general direction were "Especially Sam."

To say that I was surprised that Sam had asked me for my help would cover my feelings quite nicely. I was also, however, pleasantly flattered. After all, he could have easily gone to Rachel, or to one of the guys about song selection. Instead, he specifically chose me.

Which, me being me, never happened very much. None of the guys usually chose to hang out with me because they were afraid of 'catching the gay' or something equally ludicrous.

With Sam, however, I think he had to stifle back his enthusiasm. And the way he smiled, well… it was catchy. I could definitely get used to it.

We got comfortable in my room, both of us flipping through albums silently.

* * *

><p>Kurt's music collection is… to put it lightly… pretty awesome. I've listened to a heap of songs, and some of them would be perfect – if we were already in a relationship. A few of them might work, though.<p>

I had a moment of inspiration when I noticed that one of the songs from Lady Gaga's second album (Kurt insisted that it wasn't an album, it was an EP – whatever that meant) was called 'So Happy I Could Die'. It was perfect!

Kurt made me so happy that, I could die. So, all I had to do was sing that song. I was sure that that was the right way of approaching the challenge. Kurt loves Lady Gaga, and it would be fantastic.

I went to Kurt and asked if I could hear one of the songs on the CD. He told me I could, and put it in his CD player. The song started and I really liked the beat.

…

Wait, what?

Kurt had actually started to roll on the floor laughing at my face when I heard the words of the song.

It was about masturbation.

Damn. That's out.

So we arrived at the point we are now, where I'm still looking at his CDs. They're all pretty good, so there's a lot of choice.

I'm listening to Katy Perry's Teenage Dream album when I find a song that would be perfect to describe Kurt… but it's too high for me. And it would definitely sound better sung by a girl.

_That_, I think, _can be arranged_.

* * *

><p>Sam and I sat for hours looking at songs and albums that I'd forgotten I knew.<p>

I found a few great songs that I know I'd like to sing, so I measure the evening on the whole as a success.

It's when Blaine arrives at seven that I realize just how much time we've spent together looking.

With Sam, it was so natural – like we just fell into place together. He and I had the chemistry that I'd worked so hard to form with Blaine, so the time just flew away. I didn't fell nervous around him, or different. I felt like myself. Like he wanted me to be myself, and I really liked that feeling.

I quickly grabbed a jacket and walked Sam to the door.

"Thanks for the help," he said, and I knew that he meant it. He really appreciated that I'd taken time to help him.

"It's no biggie, Sam, really," I gushed back in reply. "Any time."

I opened the door, when Finn suddenly appeared in the foyer.

"Hey, Kurt, why don't you go on ahead," he told me. "I'll let Sam out – we have a few things we need to talk about."

Sam gulped, and I felt torn between insisting that he should go, or leaving him to my step-brother's mercy (even though I had no idea why Finn would want to do harm to Sam, seeing as he'd been the one who stole Sam's girlfriend), but ultimately I smiled and nodded.

"Have a good time on your date," Finn said, as I left out the door, and I hoped his wishes would amount to something.

"Yeah, have fun. See you tomorrow," Sam said, and I smiled.

"See you later, guys."

I walked out of the door with a smile on my face.

I loved spending time with Sam. But I was smiling because Blaine was here, right?

Right.

* * *

><p>I turn and look at Finn with wide eyes and thinly pressed lips (well, as thinly as I can make them). He just crosses his arms.<p>

We both look at each other tensely for a moment, before he suddenly breaks out into laughter. He's laughing very hard, and I'm pretty puzzled.

"What's so funny?" I ask, genuinely wanting to know.

"Oh… it's just," he starts to giggle, "the look on your face. Sorry, I just…" this is when the cackling begins. "Jeez, sorry, I just… I couldn't help myself. Ah." He sighed. "Look, Sam," he began, "I had to do that. I needed to do the big brother thing. Even when Blaine started dating Kurt, he never let me be a proper brother and scare the living daylights out of his boyfriend. It was really annoying."

"So, you were just fishing for satisfaction."

"Yeah," he says, giving me that goofy grin of his.

"Well, are you satisfied?"

He nods. "I think I am, yeah." His smile fades slowly, and his face becomes serious. He directs me towards the couch, and we both take a seat.

"I like you, Sam," Finn says. "I think you're a nice guy, and Kurt would be lucky to have you, if that's what you want."

"It… it is. He is. I want him." Finn looks at me with a face that's screaming 'TMI' and I quickly add, "To be my boyfriend, that is. I want him to be my boyfriend." Finn nods in approval. "The only problem is, though, he's got a boyfriend already. And he worships the ground that Blaine walks on."

"Blaine's a really nice guy," Finn says, and I get that he doesn't understand.

"That might be true, but have you seen what's happening to Kurt?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, ever since Kurt's come back to McKinley, I've been looking what he's wearing."

"Only since he's come back to McKinley?" Finn asks with a cheeky smirk.

"You know what I mean, Finn. What he's wearing… it's not Kurt."

"Like… it's dull?"

My face lights up. "Yes! It's all greys and whites and blacks and it's just… not bright enough. The stuff he's wearing, it's so plain… I didn't even think that Kurt had stuff like that in his wardrobe. It was physically impossible for me to even consider that he had stuff so… boring."

Finn nods. "I think you're right, dude."

"I just don't know if it was Dalton, or Blaine, or a combination of both, but since Kurt's come back, he's just become… a shell. A shell of himself, a shell of the awesome, blinding person he used to be."

"Well, you've gotta do something about it, don't you?" Finn notices my face fall – he's not going to help me? "Well, what I'm saying is, that I'll help you, but I'm not splitting him and Blaine up for you. Blaine makes him happy, and I don't even know if you're gay."

"I'm…" I'd promised myself I wasn't going to do this. Wasn't going to say those few words that had gotten me driven out of my last school from the harshness of the reception. "I'm bisexual. I've been bisexual for a long time, I've just never told anyone from this school about it, because I got bullied so badly at my last school."

Finn nods like he understands. He doesn't, but I know he has a vague idea. "Okay dude, but I'm still not going to split them up."

"That's okay. But, if I do manage to, somehow, break the two of them apart, would you root for me?"

"Sure, dude," he grins back. "After all, you're kind of perfect for him. Judging by previous interests, i.e. me," at this point I do a double take but Finn just barrels along, "you're pretty much exactly Kurt's type. You're athletic, and you're also, and this is my objective, male appreciation, kind of good looking (and we also know that I'm good looking, so we know that Kurt likes good looking guys), and you're goofy like me too. You could also hold your own in a conversation with Burt, which goes a long way in Kurt's books." At this point I gulp, because I think Kurt's dad would probably rather kill me and bury my body discreetly than have a conversation with me. "I'll totally be on Team Sam when the time comes. You've got my vote."

"Thanks, Finn." I stand up slowly, stretching. "I'd better get home."

Finn walks me to the door, but when we get there, I stop.

"You know, Kurt's pretty damn lucky to have you as a brother."

"Fatlery won't help you, Sam, but I do welcome the compliment."

"Umm… it's flattery, actually."

Finn doesn't look upset to be corrected at all. "And you're smart. I knew we'd find Kurt's match someday."

I laugh, and start the drive home.

And when I get there, I've got a call to make.


	4. The Devil's Spawn

**A/N: They're going to get longer. As demonstrated below.  
>Those of you who guessed which song I chose will probably have a surprise your way XD<strong>

**Mercedes  
><strong>_Tina  
><strong>Both<strong>_

* * *

><p>That night, I look up Tina's mobile number on Facebook and call her.<p>

"Hello?" her sweet, quiet voice asks.

"Hey Tina. It's Sam."

"Oh, hey Sam. How did you get my number?" We're not particularly close.

"I found it on Facebook." She aha-ed on the other end of the phone. "Have you had any luck with the glee assignment this week?"

"Well, I haven't really started. I was going to look through some albums tonight. Why?"

"I have the perfect song for you to sing."

* * *

><p>Back in high school, if you looked past the disgusting fashion sense, Rachel Berry was practically the female version of me. She was a diva like me, she had a similar vocal range to me, and somehow she and I twice managed to be chasing after the same guy. The first time, she won. The second time, I did. And I couldn't help but be a little bit satisfied by that.<p>

There was an advantage to being very similar to Rachel (and it was probably the only one). I was pretty much always able to tell what she was feeling, and what her motives were.

So, at that point, I knew that she was really lonely. Very, very lonely.

I walked over to her locker the next morning. "Hey, Rachel."

"Ummm… hi Kurt. Why are you talking to me?"

I laughed a little, as though what she was saying was insane. It wasn't, but that didn't really matter. "Look, Rachel – I know you're lonely." She frowned a little. "The kind of turmoil your relationship with Finn went through would have driven me insane, and I can't even begin to imagine what you went through." She nodded, her face downcast. "A wise person once said to me, 'we're going to win Nationals this year, and do you know how we're going to do that? Because we have you.' It couldn't be truer Rachel. You might be lonely, but you're not alone." Rachel smiled, and laughed a little, and she nudged me on the shoulder. "I was wondering if you might like to, maybe, sing a duet with me. I think you'll be happy with my song selection, it's sort of completely who you and I are."

"You want to do it for this week's assignment?"

"No. I think this one could be just for us."

She smiled, and shut her locker. I took her hand, and we both turned around, only to be greeted by a sight that made my day.

"Blaine!"

* * *

><p>I'm sitting in glee club, on top the world because of my idea for Tina to sing that song, which she insisted I let her include Mercedes into. I agreed, because the more the merrier, right? I watch the door, eagerly awaiting Kurt's arrival, because I know he's going to be amazed with the choice of song, and understand completely what's going on.<p>

Which is why I'm completely angry and upset when he walks in with that evil devil spawn on his arm.

I know I'm not the only one. Artie's face steels, and Finn's eyes widen. He shoots a glance my way before furiously whacking Puck in the arm, whispering in his ear desperately. Puck then shakes his head, and Finn begins talking more insistently. I hear throwaway phrases like "it'll be easy" and "he'll forgive you", but I have no idea what they're talking about.

Mr. Schue walks into the choir room, and notices Blaine. "Hey, Blaine. What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd come and surprise Kurt. See how he's doing." Sure you did. Like you care. "I just figured that he might be missing me as much as I'm missing him." Oh how adorable. NOT.

"Eugh."

"Sam?" Kurt turns at me with a puzzled look on his face.

"I said that out loud, didn't I?"

Kurt nods.

Blaine turns to look at me as well, and I give him a look that I'm hoping says 'I obviously don't like you, so don't try to fool yourself by thinking that I might lighten up because you're Kurt's boyfriend'. It probably looks like I'm passing wind, but whatever.

"I had a really bad breakfast burrito. I think it's making a repeat appearance on me."

"Gross, Sam!" Kurt complains.

"Right, guys. Can we get on with the order of things? Does anyone have anything they want to perform?"' Mr. Schue is obviously eager to change the subject fast.

Quinn raises her hand, and Mr. Schue nods.

"This song," she says, "is from Kylie Minogue's last album, called Aphrodite. It's actually the title song, and was never released as a single, but I've always liked it because it just made me feel empowered." She nods to the band, and begins to sing.

_Can you feel me in the stereo?  
>Can you feel me in the stereo?<br>Can you feel me in the stereo?  
>Can you feel me in the stereo?<em>

_This song lets you in  
>Gonna get back down and up again<br>I got you on my side  
>It's just a roller ride<br>It's the truth it's a fact  
>I was gone and now I'm back, yeah<em>

I don't think that Quinn quite understands just how relevant the lyrics to this song are to her relationship with Finn, but regardless, they are pretty telling about how things have gone on between them.

_Can you feel me in the stereo?  
>Can you feel me in the stereo?<em>

_Oh, I'm fierce and I'm feeling mighty  
>I'm a golden girl, I'm an Aphrodite<br>Alright, alright, yeah yeah hey_

_I'm fierce and I'm feeling mighty  
>Don't you mess with me, you don't want to fight me<br>Alright, alright, yeah yeah hey_

_You know that I'm magical  
>I am the original<br>I am the only one to make you feel this way_

_The moment that you kissed me  
>You know that you missed me<br>I am the only one_

_Can you feel me in the stereo?  
>Can you feel me in the stereo?<br>Oh, can you feel, hmm?  
>Can you feel me in the stereo?<br>Can you feel me in the stereo?_

_I'm fierce and I'm feeling mighty  
>I'm a golden girl, I'm an Aphrodite<br>Alright_

Quinn finishes the song, and we all smile and cheer for her as she takes her seat.

Tina raises her hand. "Mr. Schue, Mercedes and I have prepared a number, with a little bit of help," she says, flashing a concealed look my way, "as a duet. Is that okay?"

Mr. Schue nods. "Go for it."

I smile.

* * *

><p>Tina and Mercedes took two stools and sat at the front of the choir room.<p>

"This song isn't just some song," Mercedes said, and Tina nods.

"We're singing it about someone we care about, who we love very much, who is worrying us a lot," Tina finished.

They both looked at me, and Tina began to sing.

_She is a pyramid  
>But with him she's just a grain of sand<br>This love's too strong like mice and men  
>Squeezing out the life that should be let in<em>

**She was a hurricane  
>But now she's just a gust of wind<br>She used to set the sail for a thousand ships  
>Was a force to be reckoned with<strong>

**She could be a statue of liberty  
>She could be a Joan of Arc<br>**_But he's scared of the light that's inside of her  
>So he keeps her in the dark<em>

_**Oh she used to be a pearl  
>Yeah she used to rule the world<br>Ohhh can't believe, she's become a shell of herself  
>Cause she used to be a pearl<strong>_

The song they were singing… I wondered if it could be about me. About Blaine and me. I turned to look at Blaine, and was shocked to note that he wasn't looking at the front at all. Instead he was looking further in the vicinity of Puck's guns.

I sighed, and immersed myself back into the girls' duet.

_She was unstoppable  
>Moved fast just like an avalanche<br>_**But now she's stuck deep in cement  
>Wishing that they'd never ever met<strong>

**She could be a statue of liberty  
>She could be a Joan of Arc<br>**_But he's scared of the light that's inside of her  
>So he keeps her in the dark<em>

_**Oh she used to be a pearl  
>Yeah she used to rule the world<br>Ohhh can't believe, she's become a shell of herself  
>Cause she used to be a –<strong>_

**Don't you know that there's a way out  
>There's a way out<br>There's a way out  
>There's a way out<br>You don't have to be held down  
>Be held down<br>Be held down  
>Be held down<strong>

_Cause I used to be a shell…  
>Yeah I let him rule my world<br>My world _**oh oh yeah**

_But I woke up and grew strong  
>And I can still go on<br>And no one can take my pearl_

Tina cast a guarded glance at Artie before they continued, and I knew that it was true.

_**You don't have to be a shell, no-oh-oh-oh  
>You're the one that rules your world, Oh-oh-oh-oh<br>**_**You are strong, and you'll learn  
>That you can still go on<br>**_**And you'll always be a pearl**_

The music slowed, and tears were falling from my eyes. I could definitely tell that the song was for me (especially since both girls were looking at me the whole time), and it was truly beautiful.

_**She is unstoppable**_

The song ended, and I clapped furiously. I turned to look at the rest of the club, and they were all also cheering as hard as I was. Blaine was clapping unenthusiastically, and lethargically. I scowled at his lack of gusto for the amazing performance we'd just been treated to.

When I looked at Sam, I noticed that he was looking at me, and we beamed broadly at each other. I was proud of my friends singing the song – and he was smiling like he was proud too.

I wondered if Sam had something to do with this, but decided that was very unlikely.

Right?

* * *

><p>"That was great, guys!" Mr. Schue says. "Now, you're going to have to forgive me for not being very in with the times, but which song was that?"<p>

"It's called Pearl, and it's by Katy Perry, from her Teenage Dream album."

"Great job finding it, it's a real gem! Wow!" Mr. Schue's boundless enthusiasm emerges again, and he's really excited for the two girls.

"Actually, we didn't find Pearl," Tina says, with a sly look on her face, and I'm glaring daggers at her, because we specifically agreed that I wasn't to be identified as the culprit behind this song.

At least, until Kurt and I are in a serious relationship and he'd find it flattering.

"Who found it, then?" Kurt asks, and from the way he says that, I just know it's because he knows it's about him.

"Sam did," Mercedes says, and I wonder if it's legal to murder, before realizing that it has been for thousands of years. There goes that idea.

"Well, then, hats off to Sam for finding the number!" Mr. Schue says.

Kurt turns to me and smiles, and I'm on cloud nine. I made him smile! I nod, and smile back humbly. The girls both take their seats.

"So, who's next?" Mr. Schue asks, and Puck stands up.

"I found this song on Bruno Mars' Doo-Wops and Hooligans, and I totally get what he's saying, so I figure I'm gonna sing it." He smiles at Lauren, who smiles back, before smiling at Blaine, who also returns the gesture.

Kurt, I'm pleased to note, does not look amused.

The intro to the song is fast and long, and Puck gets right into it.

_Ah yes  
>Well looky here looky here<br>Now what do we have  
>Another pretty thing ready for me to grab<br>But little does she know that I'm a wolf in sheep's clothing  
>Cause at the end of the night it is her I'll be holding<em>

_I love you so  
>That's what you'll say<br>You'll tell me baby baby please don't go away  
>But when I play<br>I never stay  
>To every girl that I meet here this is what I say<em>

_Run run run away run away baby  
>Before I put my spell on you<br>You'd better get get get away  
>Get away darling cause everything you've heard is true<br>Your poor little heart will end up alone  
>Cause lord knows, I'm a rolling stone<br>So you'd better run run run run away run away baby_

Puck finishes, and we all cheer. He quakes his eyebrows at Blaine suggestively, and then returns to his seat and slings an arm around Lauren.

"Great job, Puck!" Mr. Schue says. "Now, guys –"

"Sorry, Mr. Schue, I just remembered – Coach Bieste wants me to do some laps this afternoon? I don't want them to go on too late. Can I go?" He's acting very suspiciously. I don't remember Coach setting him any laps, but I don't say anything.

"Sure, Puck. That'll be fine." Puck nods and winks at Blaine almost unperceptively, but I don't think Kurt notices.

* * *

><p>Well, that had been… different.<p>

The moment Puck left, Blaine stood up. "I should probably get going too. It's a long drive back to Westerville," he said. He leaned down and gave me a short kiss on the cheek, then walked away.

Mr. Schue started talking again, but I wasn't really paying attention. I was too busy trying to understand just what had happened between Puck and Blaine.

Finn interrupted Mr. Schue, after a few minutes. "Oops! I think I forgot my gym bag in the locker room. I think I'm going to have to go get it."

"That's okay, dude," Sam piped up. I think I left some stuff in my football locker that I need to take home."

"Don't worry, Sam, I'll get it," he said, almost panicking, then relaxed. "Actually, if you could get it, that would be great."

Sam gave Finn a confused look, and walked out to the locker room. Why was Finn acting so suspicious?

* * *

><p>I walk to the locker room, completely confused. Why was Finn being so weird?<p>

I opened the doors and gasped.

Sitting on one of the changing benches, making out furiously, were Puck and Blaine.

…

"WHAT THE HELL?"


	5. The Comfort and Scheming

**A/N: Sorry for time, but I think you might forgive me when you realise that I saved this story from being ridiculous by excluding a random musical number. Yeah. I'm that awesome. An apology is also afforded to those of you eagerly anticipating (read: tolerating and mildly enjoying) the next chapter of my crossover fic, _Dream Role._ It's getting there. And, finally, on with the show...**

I'm only shocked for a moment. I quickly regain my senses and do the only rational thing there is to do – hit Puck in the face. He falls back and I bark at him to "stay there".

Blaine starts to edge away, but I'm too fast. Instead of hitting him (because, I'm still a bit worried about breaking him, and I only hit Puck because he can't hit me back without going to juvie), I grab his right ear. Not really very menacing, I know, but Blaine yelps and I pull him all the way back to the choir room.

I shove the door open, and Mr. Schue is looking at me funny as I all of a sudden throw Blaine to the floor. He lands with a thud, and he groans, though I can tell it's only to gain sympathy.

This method, of course, works, as Kurt rushes over and coos at him. "Are you hurt? Is everything okay?" Kurt looks up and shoots me with a glare, which my face responds to by softening. I don't want him to get hurt, and suddenly I'm weighing up whether this was such a great idea in my mind.

"Yeah, nothing's broken," Blaine replies, happy that Kurt's still on his arm.

"Yet," I finish for him smoothly, and Kurt looks a little confused. "Tell him."

Blaine smiles smugly, and crosses his arms. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replies, feigning innocence.

"Yes you do. And if you don't start talking, I'm going to do to you what I did to Puck," I say, and that wipes the smile off of his face very quickly.

He still, however, shakes his head. "I'm not saying a word."

"Blaine, what did you do?" Kurt asks, and at this moment, I know that Blaine doesn't love him. Anyone who loved Kurt would have caved at the sound of his voice in pain like that.

"I didn't do anything," he says smoothly, but Kurt's not buying it.

"Blaine, just tell me." Blaine shakes his head again, and I resist the urge to whack him on the back of it.

Kurt stands up and looks at him accusingly with those eyes of his. "So there is something. Just tell me, Blaine. If you're not guilty, you have nothing to hide, right?"

At this point, Blaine makes a very sheepish face, but thankfully, Kurt has that strong resolve I lo-appreciate, and he just stares him down, until Blaine mumbles something non-committedly.

"What was that?"

"I… um… I might have…" there goes the silky charisma.

"Just spit it out, Blaine," I say unkindly.

"I kissed Puck, okay?" He shouts, exasperatedly, more at me than at Kurt. "Happy?" He turns back, and realizes his mistake. Kurt's face looks drawn and he seems more vulnerable and raw than I've ever seen him before. He presses his lips together tightly, and I almost think he's going to say something witty and snappy. Instead, he just bolts from the room. "Kurt, wait!" Blaine calls, but I hold him back.

"Don't you think you've done enough?" I say unkindly, and run off to comfort Kurt.

* * *

><p>Blaine turned to the New Directions, and they all returned his look with disgust. "I think you've overstayed your welcome, Blaine," Mr. Schuester said, and Blaine nodded.<p>

"When he… when he calms down… tell him I'm sorry, okay?"

"Just get out of here, hobbit," Mercedes spat at him.

Finn stood up and walked over to him. "We're not your messengers. Let's get this clear – you've just hurt someone who means a lot to me. And that doesn't go by unpunished. If you ever show your face around here again, I'll make sure that it's rearranged."

Blaine gulped, nodded, and ran out of the room – right into Puck, who was walking back in at the same moment. He reached down, and grabbed Puck's hand. "Call me?" Puck narrowed his eyes, and nodded.

"I have your number." He didn't sound loving, or affectionate – he sounded like he wanted to get rid of Blaine as soon as possible. Blaine left, and Puck noticed that everyone was staring at him, disapprovingly. "What?"

"Don't what us, Puckerman," Lauren spat, seething.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Zizes," he spat back, with equal force, even though they were all plainly aware of the shiner on his face.

"Yes you are. Don't be stupid. If you were like, gay or something, you could just tell us," she replied, this time a bit gentler, but still as commanding as ever.

"I'm not gay." It looked like Santana was about to but in, but he continued. "I'm not gay, and I'm not bi or whatever either. I didn't even like kissing Blaine."

"Then why did you do it in the first place?" Tina piped up. They all ignored their instant shock at her saying anything – Tina usually kept her thoughts to herself – and focused on Puck.

"Because… well… it was Finn's idea. Ask him."

Everyone turned to look at Finn, who stood up, and moved to the front of the room. "I think you should all know the truth," he started. "I never thought that Kurt was happy with Blaine, so I figured I'd have to break them up somehow."

"And since you're such a homophobe, you recruited **my** boyfriend to kiss the Hogwarts reject?" Lauren asked, obviously displeased.

"Well, not because I'm a homophobe, but because it had to be believable. Why would I make out with my stepbrother's boyfriend? Puck has a history. And guns."

They all nodded, satisfied with this answer.

"There's another thing as well."

"You want us to help you set Kurt up with the CAA frequenter, don't you?" Santana asked.

"CAA?" Brittany asked.

"Chap-Stick Addicts Anonymous," Santana replied quickly and off hand. "It was kind of obvious."

"Yeah, I mean nobody would just pick out a song for their friend because they cared," Tina said. "Sam obviously only asked us to sing because he was too afraid of what would happen if he did."

"So, it's agreed then? We're all in this to help Sam and Kurt get together?" Finn asked, happy they all seemed to be on board.

Everyone nodded, and Mr. Schue clapped a hand on Finn's shoulder. "Right, guys, whilst I'm happy you're all trying to get Sam and Kurt together and everything, maybe we should agree that nobody tells? And what are you going to do about Puck having kissed Blaine?"

"We'll just say I went off the rails a bit, but Lauren's reclaimed her stake on my balls." Everyone looked at Puck with an air of incredulity. "Or, we could just say I took too many 'roids that day, and I got a bit high, and Blaine was putting out."

"That sounds plausible," Artie said.

"And, on that note, I think it's time we called it a day," Mr. Schue said. "Far too much drama going on in this club."

* * *

><p>I was crushed.<p>

Blaine, absolutely perfect, sweet, innocent Blaine, cheated on me. _With Puck._ Not that I blame him about the Puck part, but still, he cheated? That wasn't fair.

I was about to start bawling my eyes out in a cubicle in the men's bathroom when I heard a knock on the door. "Kurt?" Sam's voice asked from outside, and I couldn't help but be relieved that it wasn't Blaine or Finn.

"Yeah, I'm in here." I reached over and unlocked the cubicle.

"Good, you haven't cried yet. Not crying's good, because he doesn't deserve a tear from you." He looked me right in the eyes. "I'm taking you home. You're in no state to drive, and you can always get a lift from Finn in the morning." I nodded, and, in a state somewhere between lethargy and consciousness, allowed Sam to drag me by the arm to his car.

The drive home was short, as I didn't live far from my school. I fumbled with my keys, and opened the front door clumsily.

"We're watching a movie. Where are your DVDs?" I lazily pointed to a couple of boxes full of discs – an eclectic mix of romantic comedies and musicals for me, box sets of hunting shows that I'd bought Dad for Father's Days and Birthdays over the years, and horror films and video games that Finn had thrown into the mix. Carole works so much, that she's never really had time for movies, but she does seem to love the ones I have, so it all works out okay.

Sam rifled through the films until he found the one that he wanted – My Best Friend's Wedding.

"Honestly, Sam? My Best Friend's Wedding? I thought you were a little bit more classy than that." Those were the first words that I'd said in a little while, and I was quite proud that they were appropriately snarky, rather than something along the lines of "Blaine sucks! I hate him soooo much… when should I call him?" There was something about Sam that made me just want to forget that there was anything to be upset about and fall into a paradise of cheesy rom-coms.

"I figure it's a good movie, and you'll like it because it's all romantic and stuff. C'mon, we'll pop it in, just sit, and watch. We don't have to talk, and you don't have to do anything, just watch the movie. You'll probably feel better. I promise."

"You promise that something will probably happen? I tremble at your certainty."

"Just trust me, okay? You won't regret it."

And I did. I nodded, sat down on the couch, and Sam got the movie ready (I was quite impressed, to be honest – it took skill to work out how to make our home theatre system work), and whilst he did so, bending over to give me a perfect view of his _ass_ets, and if I wasn't so sure he was straight, I would probably have assumed that he'd done it on purpose.

He walked back to the couch, and settled next to me.

That was what I liked about Sam – unlike the other guys, he didn't treat me like he was going to get the plague just by being near me.

Halfway through the movie, I began to feel sleepy, and my head drooped to the side, dragging me down onto Sam. I was drowsy, and I was about to sit back up, when I felt his arm slink around my shoulders and gently secure me in place. A little bit confused, but altogether too tired to care, I let myself fall asleep.

And maybe, just maybe, after about ten minutes, Sam might have done the same thing.

And to this day, my father still denies finding the two of us there, on the couch, asleep on each other. Why he didn't beat Sam to a pulp at that very moment, I don't know for certain.

Although, I do have a funny feeling that it might have been because, snuggled into Sam's side, I might just have been smiling.


	6. The Little Voice

**A/N: Sorry I've been a bit late with this. It was a bit harder. Also, there's not much S/K action in this chapter, but I thought that if the show isn't all about them, this fic shouldn't be either.**

I didn't really feel like Glee, or really being around people very much. In all honesty, I felt shattered and confused.

First, Blaine cheated on me, and then Sam was sending me really weird mixed signals – and I really enjoyed spending time with him, but I didn't want to go through what I had already suffered with Finn. Falling for a boy who wasn't interested in other boys was certainly not on my agenda.

Mr. Schue strode into the choir room, bursting with enthusiasm (as usual, annoying), and set some music down.

Sam followed soon after, and sat down next to me. His face looked strained, and in deep thought. I had to try hard not to tell him not to think so hard, because I knew it was more than a little bit rude. He looked up at me and said, after a pause, "What would their couple name be?"

I snorted. "Pain."

"Plaine."

"Plack."

"Black."

"Bluckerman."

"And-her-man!"

"Blainesaurus!"

"Puckerson."

"Anderpuck."

"Bluck."

I giggled a little bit. "More like Bluchhhh!" Sam laughed along with me, and soon we were both in hysterics.

Mr. Schue clapped his hands together. "Guys, if we could focus?" We all quieted down, though I still let out the odd giggle every now and then. "I wanted to tell you all that I'm using this assignment to find some unusual, fun and unique songs for Nationals. So, if you have any ideas, please tell me." He gave some music to the band, and Brad looked ready to take a cue. "But I figured, seeing as it's not really fair if you don't know how it's done, I'd roll out a song from one of my favourite albums."

We all laughed a little at Mr. Schue's false bravado. He sat down on a stool, and nodded, and the music began.

_I might have been a singer  
><em>_Who sailed around the world  
><em>_A gambler who wins millions  
><em>_And spent it all on girls_

_I might have been a poet  
><em>_Who walked upon the moon  
><em>_A scientist who would tell the world  
><em>_I discovered something new_

_I might have loved a queen  
><em>_And been the one to end a war  
><em>_A criminal who drinks champagne  
><em>_And never could be caught_

The emotion in Mr. Schue's performance was breathtaking. We all knew what he was singing about – the fact that he really had a gift for music, but had never decided to pursue it as a profession.

_But among your books  
>Among your clothes<br>Among the noise and fuss  
>I've let it go<em>

_I can't stop and catch my breath  
>And look no further for happiness<br>I will not turn again  
>Because my heart has found it's home<em>

Mr. Schue wrapped up the song, and we all cheered. "Thanks, guys. That was Look No Further, by Dido, from her album Safe Trip Home. Just in case you wanted to know. Now, does anyone else have anything they'd like to perform?"

Artie raised his hand, and Mr. Schue nodded. He wheeled himself to the front of the room. "I've always liked Owl City, because he's so bright and cheerful and doesn't take himself seriously. With that in mind, I hope you all enjoy." He smiled, and nodded to cue the band.

_I brush my teeth and look in the mirror  
>And laugh out loud, as I'm beaming from ear to ear<br>I'd rather pick flowers  
>Instead of plates<br>And rather than flaunt my style  
>I'd flash you a smile<br>Of clean pearly whites_

Everyone was giggling, and Artie was looking at Brittany with obvious adoration in his eyes.

_I've been to the dentist a thousand times  
>So I know the drill<br>I smooth my hair  
>Sit back in the chair<br>But somehow I still get the chills_

"_Have a seat," he says pleasantly  
>As he shakes my hand<br>And practically laughs at me  
>"Open up nice and wide," he says peering in<br>And with a smirk he says "Don't have a fit  
>This will just pinch a bit<br>As he tries not to grin_

We all harmonized with him as he sang the next part.

_When hygienists leave on long vacations  
>That's when dentists scream<br>And lose their patience_

He took the rest for himself, singing loudly and confidently.

_Talking only brings the toothaches on me  
>'Cause I say the stupidest things<br>So if my result goes south  
>I'll swallow my pride with an Aspirin<br>And shut my mouth_

At this point, Artie adopted a very serious face.

_Golf and alcohol don't mix  
>And that's why I don't drink and drive<br>Because, good grief, I'd knock out my teeth  
>And have to kiss my smile goodbye<em>

_I've been to the dentist a thousand times  
>So I know the drill<br>I smooth my hair  
>Sit back in the chair<br>But somehow I still get the chills_

We all applauded, laughing, and Artie wheeled back to his spot from before. "That was a great laugh, Artie, well done. Now, does anyone else have anything they'd like to present?"

Mike raised his hand. "I sort of prepared a routine to dance to. It's a song by Coldplay, called Strawberry Swing."

Santana suddenly stood up. "Nuh uh. That's it. I've had enough." We all looked up at her, astounded.

"You know, that's really rude –" Sam started to reprimand her, but Santana cut him off.

"Shut it, Trouty Mouth. Now, I've been with this club for way too long, and I put up with the cutesy act. But it's getting old. Seriously, can't we do something that just might push it a little bit?"

"What exactly do you have in mind, Santana?" Mr. Schue asked, edging his way back into control of the situation. Well, at the very least, he thought he was.

"Why don't I demonstrate instead?"

He nodded in response, and I was surprised. Normally, Mr. Schue didn't let us do anything that might push the envelope, even just a little bit.

Santana stood and walked to the front of the classroom. She whispered something into Brad's ear, and he nodded in response as well. She then walked over to the band, informing them of which song she had chosen, and they all began to prepare.

"I'm going to admit, I've only listened to this song because of Britts. But, it's pretty awesome, so I'm gonna sing it, and you're all going to clap at the end." She raised a finger. "You hear?"

We all nodded, and she began.

_I won't tell you what I'm thinking  
><em>_'Cause it's not the same thing you're thinking too  
><em>_You could say I got a best friend  
><em>_And she's always telling me what to do  
><em>_She's out of sight but easy to find  
><em>_She's in the front of my mind_

I was certainly surprised. Santana? Singing Hilary Duff? I stifled back a laugh because she does scare me. This is Santana we're talking about.

_The little voice in my head won't let me forget  
>The little voice in my head is never misled<br>All of this noise is what keeps me from making a mess  
>The little voice in my head just won't let me get with you<em>

_La lala la la..._

It was pretty obvious whom Santana was singing to – well, maybe she might have been grinding on Brittany just a little too hard, and Mr. Schue looked like he was about to intervene, when she backed off for just a moment.

_When I see you I admit  
>I start to lose my grip and all of my cool<br>You smell so sweet just like my perfume  
>What have you been doing since I left you<em>

_You're always there in my thoughts  
>But that doesn't mean that it's on<em>

_The little voice in my head won't let me forget  
>The little voice in my head is never misled<br>All of this noise is what keeps me from making a mess  
>The little voice in my head just won't let me get with you<em>

Santana nodded, complete, and she sat back down, as we applauded. She really was a talented girl – she just felt this need to be bitchy all the time, and that didn't bode well with most of us. "Thoughts?"

"That you and Brittany really need to get your mack on," Puck supplied, and she glared back at him, venomously.

"The only person I'm getting my mack on with is Dave, right now."

Brittany stood up suddenly, and glared down at Santana. This was odd, certainly – we'd never seen her angry before. "You shouldn't be with him. It's gross. And wrong."

"We're in love, Britt."

"No, you're not!" She yelled. Santana's eyes widened, and I settled back into my chair. Drama time. "It's just wrong, Santana!"

"Oh yeah?" Santana stood up and stared Brittany in the face. "Why?"

"Because he's really gross! And you should be…"

"Who should I be with, Britt? Who?"

"Me!" She grabbed Santana and pulled their lips together – well, that wasn't so unexpected. Artie's eyes went wide, and I instantly felt infinitely more sorry for him than I've ever felt for anyone else. His girlfriend, who's probably been cheating on him for the entire duration of their relationship, just confessed that she thinks another girl would be happier as her girlfriend.

And then proceeded to make out with her in front of the entire glee club.

I clear my throat, loudly, and both girls stop after a few seconds. Santana looks at me pointedly. "Got a problem, Lady Face?" I shook my head, and moved it slightly in Artie's direction.

"Oh, my god! Artie! I'm so sorry!" Brittany genuinely looked like she'd just forgotten that she was in a committed relationship. Which would have been pretty awkward for all involved, by the looks of it.

"No, no." Artie said gently, which surprised me. Shouldn't he be angry, or something? "You've always loved Santana. You have since before you even met me. And that's okay."

Brittany smiled.

"So, what now?" I asked, gently prompting.

"Well, I guess this means that Britt and I are official. We're…" she looked like she had trouble saying what came next, but Brittany put her hand on her back soothingly.

"It's okay. You can say it."

"We're dating."

Well, duh.


	7. The Combustible Diva

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. For some reason, this didn't come very easily. I hope you like it.**

I figure that I should probably offer to help Kurt out again. He doesn't look so great, and he could probably use a hand to make him feel better (and, I might have an ulterior motive, but that's not really such a bad thing). I walk up to his locker, and lean against it again, in a way that I hope might seem flirty, but not obvious. "Hey."

"Hey, Sam," Kurt replies, almost brightly, and I'm confused. Obviously Blaine wasn't as much of a permanent fixture as he'd have us believe. "I didn't get the chance to thank you – I really appreciate you taking care of me like that."

I beam back at him. "While we're on the subject of my kindness, I should probably tell you that I'm actually here to offer my services as comforter once again." I don't really know what it is that I am offering, but I still want Kurt to know that I'm there for him. "That is," I add, a moment later, "if you want me."

Kurt smiles, and there's just a hint of condescension in his voice when he tells me that "I really appreciate it, Sam, I really do, but I'm perfectly fine."

I nod. "Sure. Just, let me know if you need me."

He smiles, but it's almost as though his happiness doesn't reach the sides of his face. "I'll be sure to give you a call."

* * *

><p>It's about midnight when I get that call. However, it's certainly not who I expect. In my mind, when I answer the phone, my response is "Hello, this is Sam Evans, who am I speaking to?" The "huh?" from the other end alerts me to the fact, however, that I've probably said "llo'smvanshooms'pknto", which isn't even Na'avi. And I'd know. I'm very tired.<p>

"Umm, sorry dude, I have no idea what you just said, but this is Finn."

"Hey," I reply. "What's so important that you have to wake me up at midnight, dude?"

"It's Kurt," he tells me, and suddenly I hear a crash from the other end of the phone. "I think he's snapped."

I start to get dressed, and tuck my cell phone between my shoulder and ear. "I'll be there as soon as I can," I say, and as I'm pulling up my jeans, the phone slips out and tumbles to the floor. I let go of the jeans to reach down and get it, and in the process completely lose my balance, falling straight to the ground in a half-dressed flailing mess. Kurt certainly has an effect on me. Sighing, I pick up the phone.

"Are you okay, dude? I heard crashing and stuff."

"I'm fine. Just fell over. See you soon."

* * *

><p>I didn't really know what I was doing. When I came home, I found Finn in the kitchen, obviously making an attempt to cook. And failing.<p>

Badly.

It was like a tornado had come and swept up my little slice of heaven, my kitchen, the one place that I could feel in my element that wasn't my basement, or the choir room. The kitchen was the place that I used to practically live in with my mom – she was always encouraging me to make new foods, create amazing things – after she died, I took over the place. I figured that was part of why I reminded my dad of her.

For some reason, seeing Finn in the kitchen, screwing up something or other, just made me really angry. I'd already felt this weird feeling of him stealing my father, now him in my mother's kitchen made me feel much more insecure. Wasn't I good enough for anyone? Didn't anyone love me in a way that meant that I was irreplaceable?

My lips, like wriggling caterpillars, tightened together and my face contorted into one of pure rage. "FINN HUDSON! What on earth do you think you're doing?"

Finn turned to look at me, and made an attempt at appearing clueless and adorable. "I thought I might make some dinner, or something, so you didn't have to. It's not really working though."

I wasn't putting up with any of his nonsense today, however. "So you just made this huge mess in my kitchen? Who do you think is going to have to clean this up, Finn?" My mind was going so crazy, I just gave in, and picked up a nearby saucepan, brandishing it threateningly. "Who's going to clean it up?"

Finn gulped, and I could see the fear in his eyes. Good. It was nice knowing that I could scare him for a change. "Umm, Kurt, you should probably put that down."

"Why? What's the point?"

"Because you know you don't want to hurt me," Finn said, and it was probably true. He made a move to grab for the metal utensil, but I was too fast. I pulled it back, and when his arm was still extended to make his move, gave him a slight whack in the behind of his elbow. "OW!" he yelled, pulling his arm back sharply, before realizing that I had hit his elbow, meaning that folding his arm would hurt, causing him to grimace in pain.

"Get out of my kitchen!" I bellowed, and Finn ran away. The next thing I knew, I was throwing pots and pans in the sink, making a huge noise and clanging things around. I was angry, and this was how I was going to vent – semi-destructive cleaning. I was throwing things back into the pantry, shoving big clunky metal things into their places in drawers and cupboards, and just in general making a huge noise.

I did that for hours, just throwing things and smashing and crashing and in general just being angry, until the doorbell rang. I checked the clock – it was after midnight, who would come over at this hour? Stomping off to answer the door, I turned the key (roughly) in the handle, and yank the door open, fully prepared to yell very loudly at whomever had the misfortune of making such a catastrophic choice as to visit my house at that hour.

Instead, when I saw the haphazardly dressed, concerned looking blonde at the door, I did the one thing he kept telling me not to do.

I cried. I loosened up and shriveled into this heap of anguish and cried.

And, as far as I could tell, without even thinking about it, he wrapped me up in his arms and held me, closing the door as he walked into the house and led me into my bedroom, still holding me even as we lay down together on the bed. He pulled me close into his chest, holding me safely and keeping me warm as I continued to weep and sniffle.

"I thought it was forever, you know?" He didn't respond, like he knew I had more to say. "I thought that he would be my first and my last. That we'd be together until we were old and grey, singing duets to entertain the rest of the nursing home. I thought we'd be happy until the end of time."

"Sometimes, things just aren't meant to work out. It was probably just a matter of time – if not Puck, there would have been some other guy that he slept with." The wisdom spiraling out of his overly large lips was making its way to my brain, and I realized that he was right.

I yawned, suddenly exhausted. "I think I'm going to get some sleep. How did you know to come here, anyway?"

"Finn called me. He was worried about you."

"He was right," I replied solemnly. "Though I appreciate you coming to my aid, it's after midnight, and you should probably be getting home."

"If you want me to stay, I won't go anywhere," he replied, and it was then that I realized the position we were in – he was cuddling me to sleep.

I nodded. "I'd like that."

* * *

><p>About twenty minutes later, I was still attempting to make my way off into dreamland, when I heard a slight creaking of a door. It was, of course my door, and I heard footsteps coming towards me. I kept my eyes closed weakly – if I was right about whom it was coming downstairs, I certainly wanted to feign sleep for just a little while longer.<p>

"What on Earth do you think you're doing with my son?" my Dad asked Sam, whom I noticed tremble a little whilst still trying to be gentle, so as not to wake me.

"I-I… I… umm… well… you see, Kurt's been going through a really tough time, and I've tried to be here for him, and he was really upset tonight, so I came to comfort him, and he sort of fell asleep." I noticed the amount of hesitation in that sentence… could he be less straight than I had immediately envisaged?

"It's all very well to say that, Blondie, but Kurt is an attractive boy, and you're blushing into next September." I couldn't look up to affirm that assessment… what did that mean? "Do you have feelings for my son?"

I felt Sam gulp, and take a deep breath. "Yes."

I had to literally hold my eyes shut, and restrain myself. If I wanted all the facts, I'd need to hear what he had to say to my dad. After all, they were both whispering because they thought I was asleep – and there was no need to break that illusion.

Before Dad could reply, Sam barreled on. "But I promise you, I'll be open and honest with him, and make him feel special, and lo-cared for, and he'll never feel more happy than when he's with me." He paused. "Excluding, of course, when he's with you, I mean. Kurt means the world to me… and I'll make sure that he feels that he's my whole world, because he could be if he let me make him that way, he just… well… he just doesn't know exactly how I feel just yet."

There was a pause, and knowing my Dad, he was considering just what was the right thing to say in this instance. "As long as you do it properly, romance him. Make him feel special, like you said. You don't seem like a bad kid, and I know Kurt and Finn like you, so you can't be too bad. Just treat him right, you hear?"

I felt Sam nod against me.

"Oh, and another thing, Blondie –"

"It's Sam, actually, sir. Sam Evans."

"Well then, Sam, I'm going to have to ask that you please get yourself off my son." My dad walked away, and when I heard the door closed, I took it as a cue to 'wake up'.

"Darn, did I fall asleep?"

* * *

><p>To say that I'm happy as I drive back home from Kurt's place is a bit of an understatement. I have approval from his dad to take him on a date, I know that he's comfortable in my arms, and my mind is buzzing from the scale of just how good things are.<p>

I get home, just about to settle back into bed, when my phone buzzes again. Checking the caller ID, I notice that it's Tina.

"Hey," I answer groggily.

"Hey Sam," she says, and I register that she's far too cheery for one o'clock in the morning.

"Is everything alright?" I ask, because, as I've already realized, people don't just call in the middle of the night for no reason.

"Everything's fine, yeah. You know how you gave me that song to sing to Kurt?"

"Yeah?" I replied, because I was confused. How could I forget that? It only happened a few days ago.

"Well, I just thought I'd return the favour."


End file.
